


Taking Care

by SpaMightWrite



Category: Professional Wrestling, World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Desperation, Established Relationship, Kink Discovery, Kink Meme, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Non-Penetrative Sex, Omorashi, Wetting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-26
Updated: 2019-08-26
Packaged: 2020-09-26 19:44:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,202
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20395147
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpaMightWrite/pseuds/SpaMightWrite
Summary: Pete is the one guy who could walk in on something like this and barely bat an eye. Mark is a lucky lucky boy.





	Taking Care

**Author's Note:**

> Kink meme fill! Anon wanted some Dunne and Mandrews with desperation and light domming, and by god they shall have it. Ended up taking longer than expected, but it also ended up being a longer story than I thought it would. Trade-off.

Pete wasn’t trying to surprise Mark that day. 

In fact, they’d planned for him to come over. He just happened to finish his errands early, and so let himself into the flat with his spare key. 

Mark wasn’t in the living room. Pete speculated that he was having a nap or something, so he slipped his shoes off and walked to the bedroom. Pete listened against the door briefly and heard nothing. Therefore, assuming Mark was asleep, he decided to open the door slowly to keep the noise to a minimum. 

Of course, that meant he opened the door to find Mark standing in the middle of the bedroom on a towel, his eyes shut tight, and his hand was down the front of his jeans, rubbing furiously. And it wasn’t until Mark opened his eyes and noticed Pete there that he fully began to understand what was happening. 

Mark’s light-colored skinny jeans were soaked in the middle, from his crotch to his feet, making it entirely obvious what had happened. The towel Mark was standing on contained its own dark patch between his feet. 

Seconds ticked by. Mark’s eyes were wide with shock, and he was panting not just with effort but from anxiety. Pete had never seen him quite like this before, and nothing had indicated he ever would before that moment. 

And he never expected to find such a scene so… intriguing. 

Pete was opening his mouth to speak when Mark said hurriedly, “I can explain—I just—I was, erm, you see—“

Pete held up a hand to stop his stammering. “Mark. Breathe.” He approached Mark, whose shoulders slumped immediately. Pete’s hands made their way to Mark’s shoulders and began rubbing gently. Mark’s head dropped onto Pete’s shoulder. 

“I didn’t expect you for a few hours,” Mark mumbled into Pete’s shirtsleeve. “I didn’t know if you’d… if you’d be… well. If this sort of thing would disgust you. So I wanted to keep it to myself.”

“What, this?” Pete grinned warmly. One of his hands left Mark’s shoulder. “No, not in a million years. I didn’t expect it, but…” He let his hand rest on Mark’s hip, dangerously close to the edge of the wet spot. “Of all the things it could be, this is… this is absolutely fine.” 

“You don’t have to try to make me feel better, so don’t lie to me—“

“I’m not.” 

Mark gasped as his sodden crotch was suddenly cupped in Pete’s hand. Instinctively, Mark’s hips thrust forward for more contact, and Pete felt just how hard he was from his naughty little dalliance. 

“Can’t claim to understand it all entirely,” Pete chuckled. “But you and I both know how hot you are when you’re needy.”

Mark lifted his head from Pete’s shoulder, but kept it low so as to look up at his boyfriend. “I’m certainly feeling a need right now.”

“So am I.” They kissed, long and breathlessly, before Pete broke away to ask, “Do you think you could do this again? But for me?”

Mark took in a shaking breath. “I’d love nothing more.”

~

The game required them to suspend some amount of disbelief. The point, obviously, was that Mark absolutely would never make it to the toilet on time. But they were going to pretend, without irony or acknowledgement, that the restroom was unavailable. So he would _have_ to hold it, waiting for a time that would never come. 

Chugging Gatorade for the past few hours was starting to take its toll on Mark. His flat stomach was tight under his shirt, and Pete could swear it was slightly distended for a short time. They were on the couch, Mark leaning against Pete who sat upright as they watched one of those indistinguishable cooking competition reality shows on the television. 

Pete wondered how well Mark would have been paying attention to the TV for the last thirty minutes or so. Pete heard his boyfriend shift positions at least once a minute, and snuck a look over at him at one point. Mark’s eyebrows were furrowed and his legs were crossed. It didn’t appear to be urgent quite yet, but it definitely would be very soon. Pete knew that the more severe urges would usually hit Mark rather all at once, if the occasional road trips were any indication. 

Unless Mark had a habit of staying quiet until it became unmanageable. Considering Pete’s discovery the other day, it was a valid theory. 

“How are you feeling, then?” Pete asked. Talking about it was something Mark had requested, though he warned it would seem much more difficult for him than it actually was. 

Mark’s cheeks went pink immediately. “M’all right. For now.”

“Good.” Pete slipped his arm behind Mark’s shoulders and gently rubbed his upper arm. “I know you’re going to hold it for me like a good boy, right?”

He swallowed and let out a quick breath. “Right. Of course.”

“Because correct me if I’m wrong, Mark, aren’t you a bit old to be having accidents?”

Mark squirmed beside him, briefly panting with arousal. “Yeah. A bit.”

“Glad we agree.”

Mark only became more restless as time went on. His hands absent-mindedly rubbed against the tops of his thighs, and eventually he lifted his head from Pete’s shoulder. 

Mark groaned and shifted his waist toward Pete. “I’ll have to sit up.” 

Pete offered a hand to help him get upright. “Is it getting bad?”

“Definitely getting there.” Mark winced as he sat up, one hand fluttering towards his crotch but stopping just short. He squeezed his inner thigh instead, as if holding himself directly would be admitting some sort of defeat. 

“I suppose you’ll have to work at it now.” Pete found himself wanting to grin, but suppressed it for the time being. He didn’t want Mark to think he was mocking him when he was trying to hard to be good. 

Mark chuckled wryly. “As if I’d not been before.”

With a sympathetic nod, Pete gave Mark a pat on the shoulder and said nothing else for several minutes. It wasn’t very long, for sure, but he imagined it felt far longer for Mark, who was unable to stay still. He switched between rubbing his thighs, jiggling his leg, and squeezing his hands together just inches away from his crotch. It wouldn’t be long now. 

“Dear me, you’re fidgeting quite a bit,” Pete mumbled, trying to sound kind about it. “You can hold yourself, if you need to.”

He didn’t even spend time thinking about it. Mark’s hands were immediately shoved between his legs with a whimper. His body relaxed only slightly with the additional help. Mark took a sidelong glance at Pete, his face heavily reddened.

“There’s so much,” he moaned. “I’m trying, I really am, but…” His thighs squirmed together around his hands.

“Could it help to stand up? Might take some of the pressure off.” He gestured to the pair of towels they’d set down on the carpet in front of the couch earlier. Just in case. 

Mark swallowed and took one hand off of his crotch, slowly rising to his feet, bent over and groaning with effort. With three small, pained steps, Mark positioned himself on the towels, his toes curling. 

“Turn around, now,” Pete coaxed as he leaned forward on the couch. “I need to see. You’re trying so hard for me, aren’t you?” He was close enough to reach out and place a hand on Mark’s elbow.

Mark obliged. His face betrayed just how difficult this whole thing was getting for him. Hunched over, cheeks pink, a bead of sweat on his forehead. Pete didn’t want him to give up, necessarily, but he knew it would be over very soon, and Mark would _have_ to feel better once it was. 

Suddenly Mark let out a soft gasp and his whole body seemed to scrunch up. His hands were squeezing his crotch in unison, covering up what may already be happening. 

“Mark?”

Chewing his lower lip, Mark whined continuously for a few moments before exhaling. He bounced on his heels and whimpered, “I-I think I leaked a bit.”

“That’s okay. You have it under control, again, don’t you?”

“I think so,” Mark huffed. “But I don’t know how much longer that’ll last.”

No sooner did Mark finish his sentence when his face fell. Along the top of his inner thighs, his jeans began to darken. Clear liquid streamed out slowly from between his fingers and landed between his feet in tiny drops on the towel. 

Pete’s heart gave a leap and sent his bloodstream coursing to one location. 

“Fuck,” Mark gasped. “No, no, please…” 

It was useless to keep his hands in his crotch at this point, but that didn’t seem to occur to him. The wet spot grew so quickly that it took mere seconds to reach the cuffs of his jeans. From the leg holes came streaming rivulets that pooled beneath his feet. 

“I can’t stop…” he moaned with equal parts pleasure, relief, and embarrassment. “I’m sorry, I can’t. It won’t…” 

Mark didn’t finish his sentence, but finally let his hands fall to his sides. Nearly the whole front of his crotch was dark, shining with his relief. With the source of the flow sparkling in a line down his left thigh, Pete could see exactly where Mark’s cock was pointing. 

“Oh, Mark,” Pete sighed as he watched him completely give up control. “Look at this mess you’re making…”

Mark winced as he looked down at himself. He was still streaming heavily into his jeans. The puddle between his feet was growing larger. His jeans were absolutely ruined with his accident. He held himself around his stomach and shifted on his feet. 

“I’m sorry, I tried to hold it…” And yet, the deep sigh that floated from his lungs made it clear he was happy not to be trying anymore. 

The drips from the cuffs were slowing at this point. There was so much already on the towel and in his pants that Pete was surprised he could possibly still be going. 

“You did try so very hard for me,” Pete agreed. “Do you feel better now?”

Mark looked away, revealing just how red his ears were burning. He gently pulled the hem of his t-shirt down, but it did little to hide his shame. “Yes. I-I think I’m done…”

“I think you’d better give it a moment and see.”

Mark nodded. He pulled his shirt back up to look at his crotch, revealing a small strip of his stomach. The dark spot on his crotch shone briefly with three little jets, but that was all. The remains didn’t even drip, becoming lost in the rest of the flooded fabric. 

“There you go,” Pete said softly. “You’re a bit of a clumsy boy, aren’t you? Couldn’t quite hold it long enough…” His own jeans were stretched with his arousal. He readjusted himself and let out an exhale of pleasure from the brief contact. 

“‘M sorry,” Mark repeated. 

“I know, it’s all right. These things happen.” Pete gestured for Mark to turn around. Once he did so, Pete pulled him into his lap before he could protest. 

“Your pants,” he exhaled quickly. 

“They’ll be fine with a wash.” Pete wrapped his arms around Mark’s waist and groped about the wet fabric, pressing it against Mark’s skin. It was still warm. “Goodness, I’m a little less sure about your jeans, though. Your little accident has done a number on them.”

Mark gasped, shook under Pete’s hands. “I-I’m sorry, I couldn’t hold it—“

Pete kissed him on the neck, let his hot breath warm against it. “It’s okay, you don’t have to be sorry. I’ll take care of everything.”

He undid Mark’s jeans and reached in to rub his hard length through his damp underwear. His moans were as desperate as they were just a few minutes ago. It wouldn’t take much. Pete pushed his own clothed crotch against Mark’s ass. He could feel the wetness beginning to transfer. 

“You tried so hard, I know you did,” Pete breathed in Mark’s ear and gave it a nibble. “You can only do so much. But you really have to be more careful. We don’t want you to have another accident in front of anybody else, do we? Will I have to remind you to go for a wee every now and then?”

“Pete—“ Mark’s entire body jolted. He cried out as Pete continued rubbing his throbbing cock. It pulsed in his hand, over and over, pumping out a new sort of wet spot into the cloth. Mark went limp in Pete’s thrusting lap. Pete wasn’t far behind him, either. With his hands on Mark’s wet thighs, he rode through his own orgasm with a passionate groan. 

Minutes passed. Pete couldn’t stop himself from kissing Mark on the back of his head, his neck, his shoulders. He was so damn beautiful, spent like this after having his every need fulfilled. 

Mark eventually found the energy to stand, and Pete followed him. Wordlessly, they began to take off their wet clothes, gather the towels they used. 

They had some laundry to do, and a shower to take together.


End file.
